


Butterflies

by BuckinghamAlice



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic, Fluff and Smut, Love, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-18
Updated: 2013-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-05 01:32:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckinghamAlice/pseuds/BuckinghamAlice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce feels a little bit insecure and decides to get a haircut.  Clark tries to talk him out of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Butterflies

It had been an exceptionally average night when Bruce came into the bedroom after taking a shower and leaned over the dressing table to stare at himself in the mirror.  This was odd behavior for him.  He knew it and he’d acknowledge it.  But… still.

It was his hair.  It was a little too long, and he had to admit it was getting dull.  He was also getting touches of gray here and there… but worst of all was the fact that he felt it was starting to thin.  He was getting old.  He cast a glance over his shoulder at Clark, who was stretched out on the bed, looking irritating perfect in jeans and a t-shirt, quietly reading his creased copy of _Call of the Wild_ and trying to look like he hadn’t noticed what Bruce was doing.  That was considerate of him.

Bruce pushed his bangs back and tried to figure out how he could style it so as to best hide the area in the middle that was just beginning to thin.  At this point, it was hardly noticeable… but it would become more apparent at some point.  Soon, probably.  He wondered if Clark had noticed it but chosen not to say anything about it.  He did spend more time looking at the back of Bruce’s head than anyone…

Nope.  He couldn’t have Clark seeing that.  He’d have to do something about it.

He tightened the belt on his robe and turned around.  “I think I’m going to have my hair cut,” he said very casually.

Clark lowered his book but raised his eyebrow.  “Really.”  And it wasn’t a question, but it should have been.  Bruce hated how Clark could often see through him and hear the words he wasn’t saying.  But he maintained his usual plain expression, and Clark continued.  “How short are we talking?”

Bruce turned back to the mirror.  “Shorn short.  Very short.”  You’d not be able to see a bald spot that way.

Clark set his book down.  “No.”

“I wasn’t looking for permission,” Bruce said calmly.

“I was just giving my opinion,” Clark replied.  “And I don’t think you should do that.”

Bruce huffed once.  “I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”

“You implied you wanted it,” Clark replied.  He got out of bed and walked up beside Bruce.  “What’s this all about anyways?  I thought it was a part of _The Look_ to have to flick your hair out of your face.”

“Well, I can change _The Look_ if I need to,” Bruce said, perhaps a bit defensive.

Clark wrinkled his nose.  “I just happen to really like your hair.  I don’t think you should cut it all off.”

“Why not?” he asked.

And Clark wrapped his arms around Bruce’s waist from behind and rested his chin on the shorter man’s shoulder.  “Because,” he answered petulantly.  “Because… I don’t think I’ll want to fool around with you when the moonlight is bouncing off your head.”

And it was a joke, Bruce knew, but it… it hit close to home.  He cleared his throat and huffed, trying to break out of Clark’s hold, but he couldn’t quite.  Not without a fight, at any rate.  “Well… you’re a bit _shallow_ if your affection is conditional on my hair.”

“Oh, come on,” Clark said softly, kissing his shoulder once through his bathrobe.  “You know I’m kidding.”

“You sounded like you meant it,” Bruce grumbled.  “You didn’t hesitate to say it.”

“Why are you being so sensitive?” Clark asked.  “Am I missing something?”

Bruce scowled half-heartedly.  If Clark was saying he was being sensitive, that was code for overly sensitive… which was code for silly.  He sighed.  “I’m not being sensitive.  I’m just surprised at your attitude.”

Clark laughed once, lightly.  “I would never actually withhold my favors.  You should know me and my libido well enough to know I was joking about that.”

“So you’d just bravely close your eyes and pretend my bald head didn’t bother you,” Bruce added, one eyebrow raised slightly.

“Stop,” Clark, who still looked more or less like he did the day Bruce had met him, whispered playfully, kissing Bruce’s jaw softly.  Bruce wrinkled his nose and shrugged his shoulder up, as if to wipe the kiss away.  Clark kissed him again.  “Seriously.  You know you still give me butterflies, don’t you?”

Bruce made a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a grunt.  That was his go-to response when Clark said things like that.  “Butterflies,” he repeated casually.  “I always found that a strange expression.”

“Maybe,” Clark replied with a laugh.  “But isn’t it accurate?  That’s sort of how it feels.”  Bruce gave another grunt-snort and Clark gave him a little squeeze.  “So you _don’t_ feel like that about me?”

Bruce turned his head slightly to look Clark in the eye and almost laughed at the playful glint there.  “Don’t be silly,” he said.

“That isn’t a no,” Clark said triumphantly.

“Nor is it a yes,” Bruce responded.

Clark grinned that beautiful yet infuriating grin of his and said, “You know, I can hear that your heart starts beating a little faster whenever I’m this close to you.  I think that counts as butterflies.”

“That has nothing to do with you,” Bruce lied, and in response, Clark pressed another kiss to his shoulder, then gently turned Bruce’s face to him with one finger hooked under his chin.  After a soft kiss, Bruce whispered, “Butterflies,” against Clark’s lips.

“Mhm,” Clark sighed.  “Butterflies.”

“So these butterflies,” Bruce began.  “You say you’re not shallow, so you would still get them if I got old and bald.”  He was concentrating very hard on keeping his breathing even and his tone light.

“I would,” Clark insisted.  “It’s you that gives me the butterflies, not the fact that you’re disgustingly handsome or the fact that I can’t help smiling when I run my fingers through your hair.  And besides… if your hair falls out, that’s the passage of time.  Inevitable.  But if you shave it all off, that’s just cruel.”

“I see,” Bruce said.  “So then, how about if I got fat?”

“You’d have to eat to get fat,” Clark replied.  “And it would help if you ever sat still.”

“Suppose I did those things,” Bruce said.

Clark squeezed him a little tighter.  “If you got fat, then I’d just have to work a little harder, and squeeze a little tighter, to get my arms around your waist.”

Bruce laughed once.  “I’m amazed that you resisted the temptation to say it’d be more of me to love.”

“I knew you’d be expecting that,” Clark replied with a chuckle.  “But you know, that is true.  Because I’d love you no matter what… and you’re stuck with me forever.”

“What makes you think we’ll get forever?” Bruce asked, closing his eyes.  He didn’t imagine he was lucky enough to get forever with a happy ending.  Not with their lives.  Not with what they faced every day.  They never talked about things like that, but Bruce thought about them.  He had _been_ thinking about them since right after he realized that he _could_ live without Clark… but he never wanted to.  He wondered if Clark ever thought about things like that.

Clark pressed another kiss to his jaw and whispered, “Even if it isn’t forever, I’ll take you for as long as I get you.”  With another kiss, this time to Bruce’s neck, he murmured, “Which, barring any unforeseen tragedy, will be as long as you want me.”

Bruce kept his eyes closed, had them squeezed as tight as he possibly could.  “You don’t have to worry about that.  I’ll always… I mean, I can’t remember a time when I didn’t…”

Clark ran his hands up Bruce’s chest and pressed a couple of kisses to his cheek and jaw.  “You know that I feel the same way, don’t you?  You have no reason to be insecure or anything like that…”

“Insecure?” Bruce asked, eyes snapping open.  “I am certainly _not_ … this isn’t anything like that.”

Clark smiled.  “Then why else are you staring at yourself in the mirror and threatening to cut off all your hair?”  Bruce said nothing, so Clark sighed and continued.  “I’m sorry I said the i-word.  And I’m sorry I made that joke earlier.  You know I think you’re perfect, right?”

Bruce snorted.  “No one is perfect, Clark.”  Had he been a more effusive person, he might have added, “Except you,” but he didn’t.  He didn’t have to.

“But I’m heavily biased in your favor,” Clark whispered.  He pushed his hips up against Bruce then and held him tighter, rubbing his chest with one hand and running one finger on the other up his side. 

“Well,” Bruce began, more flustered than he wanted to admit.  “I suppose that’s a good enough reason to say something like that…”

Clark turned Bruce to face him, smiling softly and eyes glinting.  He was powerless, absolutely powerless, under Clark’s gaze.  He always was.  He pulled Clark’s face down to him and starting kissing him.  He wrapped his arms around Clark, clinging tight to him and pulling him close at once.

Wordlessly, they agreed that it would be more than just kissing and touching and comforting.  Want became need as Clark tugged the belt on Bruce’s robe open and ran his hand along skin still soft and cool from the shower.  Bruce let out a little sigh and managed to pull the t-shirt off of Clark, tossing it aside as he kissed his collarbone.  Clark grabbed a handful of Bruce’s hair, just hard enough to coax a little moan from him, as he kissed his jaw and neck and lips.

Clark lifted him up, just slightly off the ground, and set him on the edge of the dressing table beside him as he continued to kiss his neck.  Bruce held desperately to the back of Clark's pants with one hand and ran the other gently down his back.  He wondered if Clark could feel the goose bumps on his arms.  He hoped not.  It was a little silly to still be getting goose bumps after all this time.  But then again, it was probably silly that Clark still blushed around him, but he wouldn't change that for anything.

At the moment they were both hot and red in the face, and Bruce didn't mind that a bit.  The trail of kisses that Clark had led down his neck now came back up to his lips and Bruce let out a little sigh.  Clark smiled into the kiss and Bruce gave his bottom lip a bite.

"Careful, now," Clark cooed in his ear, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight and gripped the edge of the dressing table.  They had never had sex on the dressing table before... the bed was just right there.  But at the moment, the thought of moving didn't hold nearly as much appeal as the thought of Clark pressing his body into Bruce while his back laid on the cool, varnished wood of the antique below them.

They had bought that dressing table together.  It had been the first piece of furniture purchased for what turned out to be the redecoration of several rooms in Wayne Manor.  They had been at an antique show, not long after they had first started dating seriously.  Bruce had wanted to find a Windsor writing chair for Alfred's birthday, but the only thing to catch his eye that day was this eighteenth century walnut Queen Anne dressing table with a low top, curved legs, and scallops carved onto the drawers.  It had a matching stool with a cushion covered in the loveliest sapphire colored brocade.  Bruce wasn't going to buy the piece, because he couldn't see himself using it.

But Clark... Clark had said, "You should get it.  It'd be nice in your bedroom."

And then, in a split second, he could see Clark, clear as anything, sitting in front of that dressing table, in a suit and a tie that brought out his eyes, brushing his hair.  But the strange thing was the hairbrush.  He was using _Bruce's_ hairbrush.  That little scene terrified him for a moment, because he wasn't meant to fantasize about things like domestic bliss and sharing every aspect of his life with someone, even his personal items.  But the clarity of what he saw, and the fact that even while he was terrified it made him happy, convinced him that this was what he wanted, it was all he wanted.  He wanted Clark to be there and he wanted it to be permanent and comfortable, and it was scary... but it felt wonderful.  And that was how every day since that one had been.

Bruce let his robe slip off his shoulders and fall in folds behind him and around his hands that were still gripping the wood below him.  Clark unzipped his jeans as he kissed Bruce's nipple.  His lips barely grazed Bruce's skin, and somehow that made more of an impact than the passionate kisses they had often pressed onto one another.  Clark's lips were so soft... like... well, nothing he had ever felt before he had kissed him the first time.  They were altogether indescribable.

Bruce slid one hand down the back of Clark's pants and squeezed his ass.  "Take these off, you tease," Bruce breathed, murmuring into the kiss that Clark had now brought to his lips before he even saw it coming.  Sometimes Clark moved so quickly that sex with him was full of pleasant surprises.

"As you wish," Clark replied with a smile.  Bruce smirked as Clark stepped out of his pants and underwear, already half hard.  "Let's see if we can't get you hard, too."

"You never have much trouble," Bruce remarked as Clark gently gripped his cock.  He sighed, biting his lip and staring back into Clark's blue eyes as he began to pump him.  He wrapped his arms around Clark's shoulder and kissed his jaw and neck as his body responded to the touch of the man he loved, that wonderful man who loved him. 

Clark gave him another soft kiss.  "What do you say we move this over to the bed?"

"I was... rather looking forward to having you fuck me right here," Bruce said, licking this spot behind Clark's ear and making him tremble.

"That does sound fun," Clark said, "But you're going to need space to stretch out... for all the things I'm going to do to you."  _That_.  That was appealing.  Bruce gave Clark a little half smile and slid off the dressing table.  Clark took his hand and led him over to the bed and pulled him onto his lap.  Bruce rutted his hips up against Clark, hard lengths sliding against one another.  Clark's hands slid up Bruce's back and his fingers entwined into his hair.

"You've made your point about the hair, Clark," Bruce sighed.

Clark kissed him and smiled into the kiss as he exhaled a little laugh.  "I'm not trying to prove a point.  I'm being sincere... you're perfect, just as you are now."

Bruce gave him a wicked smile and pushed him onto his back on the mattress.  "I won't always be 'as I am now.'  I'm going to change a little bit every day... but one thing that will never change, one thing I will always love, is the face you make when I've got you pinned."

Clark grinned and kissed the tip of Bruce's nose.  "I could get out of this hold if I wanted to."

"The fact that you haven't proves that I win," Bruce replied smugly, pushing his hips against Clark again.  He laced his fingers through Clark's and kissed him on the collarbone.

Clark's eyes closed gently.  "You have the advantage, B," he whispered.  "Make good use of it."

"I plan to," Bruce all but growled.  He kissed a trail of soft, hot kisses down the expanse of smooth, sun kissed skin that was Clark's chest.  He'd never stop loving how Clark was always warm, the way his body hair was so soft and fine... the way he'd always been and always would be unscarred.  He'd called him perfect so many times that the word had lost all meaning, so now he just reminded himself that Clark was his.  All his.

"Mine," he murmured, as he kissed Clark's stomach and wrapped his hand around his cock.  Bruce looked up into eyes that shone with trust and love as the heat of his mouth enveloped Clark’s cock.  He felt fingers gently card through his hair as he swirled his tongue around Clark’s head.  A gentle pull of his hair became a firm grasp when he took Clark’s whole length in his mouth.

“Mmm,” Clark sighed.  “Bruce… you’re so good.”  He began to thrust into Bruce’s mouth a little, and Bruce ran his hands up Clark’s torso.  He could feel the goose bumps again when Clark stroked his arms, and though he was warm, as he always was when he was with Clark, the hairs on his arms started to stand on end.  Maybe it was just static electricity… or maybe it was just his body responding to Clark in yet another way.  He licked and sucked Clark’s balls, one at a time, before taking the head back in his mouth.

Clark gently brushed his thumb along Bruce’s cheek and tipped his chin up slightly.  Bruce gave a little half smile, lips just curving up at the corners.  He crept higher to kiss Clark and felt large, strong hands gliding down his back.

“Hey,” Clark breathed between kisses.  “Roll over for me… onto your stomach.”

“Oh, one of those nights, is it?” Bruce asked, brow arched.

Clark nuzzled his face against Bruce’s and kissed his jaw.  “If you want it to be,” he whispered in Bruce’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine.  Bruce shifted himself off of Clark and onto the mattress and closed his eyes as he felt those hands gently gliding across his shoulders and down his back.  Clark’s hands rested on his lower back as he began to kiss the back of his neck, between his shoulder blades, everything.

Being underneath Clark always made Bruce feel incredibly warm and safe.  He liked it like this… Clark’s body blanketing him, holding him down, fucking him into the mattress.  He was growing impatient just thinking about it.  Feeling Clark’s erection poking against him, flushed and warm, was driving him crazy.

“You had better not be getting ready to tease me,” Bruce growled.  He groaned when Clark ran a finger down his ass crack.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Clark said, and Bruce could practically hear the smile in his voice.  He pushed back slightly, and Clark stilled him with one hand on his lower back.  “You need to be patient… I told you I had a few things I wanted to do to you…”

“You just want me to squirm,” Bruce complained, but he quieted down when Clark began to kiss his way back down his back.  He felt him reach over to the bedside table and grab the bottle of lube sitting there.  But as Clark nudged Bruce’s legs further apart, he didn’t enter him.  Not yet.  He continued kissing down his back as he slowly stuck a finger inside Bruce.  He pushed it in a little deeper, and Bruce let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.  Clark pushed in a second and a third finger and Bruce sighed and moaned.

Clark pulled his fingers out all of a sudden and Bruce was about ready to protest the loss when he felt Clark spreading him open slightly and licking at his hole.

“Oh, God, fuck,” Bruce moaned, voice muffled against the bed.  He held onto the edge of the mattress, gripping so hard his knuckles went white, as his toes curled under and he writhed slightly from the feeling.  He could hardly think straight with Clark eating him out, licking slowly at first, then fast and relentless.  And then, when Bruce thought it couldn’t feel any better, he’d slow down again, and swirl his tongue a little and start over.  Soon, he crawled onto Bruce, straddling his waist.  Bruce gave him a needy look over his shoulder and Clark pressed a sloppy kiss to his lips.

“Are you ready?” Clark whispered.

“Fuck yes,” Bruce replied.  Clark quickly slicked himself with lube and pressed into Bruce.  He threw his arm around Bruce’s shoulder and caressed his chest as he began to thrust into him.  And it wasn’t one of those times where he started slow or teased him.  He just slid right in and began fucking him the way only he could.  And Bruce loved it because he loved when Clark was eager for him and loved it when he didn’t have to wait to feel everything that Clark could make him feel.

Bruce could feel himself unwinding, all the tension releasing from his body and all the stress he carried just fading away.  Nothing else mattered when Clark was inside him.  He placed his hand on the one Clark had thrown around his shoulder, and his fingers slowly slipped down low enough for Clark to lace his though them.  The way Clark’s hot breath felt on the back of his neck made his toes curl, and when he’d occasionally kiss his neck or jaw, Bruce would let out a little moan. 

Clark was in Bruce deep and thrusting hard, and the friction of his body moving against the mattress was making his own hard cock leak even more.  He felt like no one had ever known his body as well as Clark did.  He knew his limits and his needs, when to push harder and when to hold back.  He knew how to get him to let go. 

Bruce welcomed the switch in positions when Clark rolled off of him and said, “Hop on.”  He lowered himself onto Clark’s cock and began to ride him.  He knew Clark liked when they were face to face, and he also knew that when he rode him hard and his cock bounced against Clark’s abdomen, that made him practically vibrate with pleasure, and that benefited them both.

Clark pulled Bruce down to him for a kiss, and they pressed their foreheads together.  Clark looked at him, all tenderness and maybe a little neediness.  He pushed up into Bruce fast and hard as he grabbed Bruce’s cock and began to stroke him.

“Are you… you getting close?” Clark asked between jagged breaths.

Bruce dug his fingers into Clark’s shoulders and bit his lip.  “Yeah.  Oh, fuck yes.”  Sweat beaded on his forehead as his own hips slowed.  Clark held him at the waist and his back arched as Bruce came, moaning his name unashamedly. 

“Ahh, oh fuck,” Clark moaned.  Bruce leaned in and kissed him, hips returning to the slow rocking motion.  Clark wrapped his arms around Bruce, holding him close and running his hands over his back.  “I love being inside you when you come,” Clark said.  “You get so fucking tight and it feels so fucking good.  I really love it.”

“And I fucking love when you talk dirty to me,” Bruce whispered in his ear.  “Almost as much as I love when you come inside me.”

“Oh, yeah?” Clark asked in a grunt.  “You like that?”

“Love it,” he mumbled, pressing a hard kiss to Clark’s lips.  “Come for me.”  Clark held hard enough to Bruce’s hips to leave marks, but Bruce didn’t care.  As much as he knew Clark loved feeling him let go, he loved feeling Clark be on the edge, putting off his orgasm and always letting Bruce come first.  He loved that feeling, because it always meant when Clark came, he would feel it too.  Even when he wasn’t inside him, Bruce felt it too.

When Clark came, it was with his hands tangled in Bruce’s sweat damp hair and their mouths pressed together, his moans muffled by Bruce’s lips.  Clark continued to kiss him and hold him close for a few minutes before pulling out and letting Bruce roll onto the mattress beside him.  They were quiet for a while, both breathing heavily and trying to focus their hazy eyes.  Eventually Bruce reached out and found Clark’s hand and laced their fingers together.  He had never been a hand holder before Clark, but he was now.  He liked the feeling.  He’d have been content to lie there quietly, just holding Clark’s hand until they fell asleep.

But after a few more minutes, Clark said, “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” Bruce replied.

Clark pulled him a little closer.  “We need to catch up on cuddle time.”

“Oh, yes,” Bruce sighed.  “Because it’s been so long since we cuddled.  I think it’s been, what?  Forty-five seconds since your arms were around me?”

Clark smiled at him.  “It’s been much longer than that.  Just come here.”

“No,” Bruce said, squeezing his eyes shut.  “You’re sticky.”

Clark looked at him with an amused expression on his face.  “And whose fault is that?”  Bruce replied with a sigh and Clark smiled again.  “Fine,” he continued.  “I’ll snuggle up to you.”  Bruce heaved another sigh, but only because he knew Clark expected it.  And when Clark pushed his body up against him, draping a leg over his lower body and putting his head over Bruce’s heart, beating now back to normal, Bruce wrapped his arms around him and pressed a gentle little kiss into his black hair.

“Are you still going to cut your hair?” Clark asked.

Bruce considered this for a moment before replying, “Yes.”

“Then I take that sex back,” Clark said.

Bruce smiled to himself.  “If you can figure out a way to do that, you’re more than welcome to try it.”

They remained wrapped around each other until they were both asleep, and the last thought Bruce had before drifting off was that maybe he’d just get his hair trimmed instead. 


End file.
